


21 Hops Avenue

by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)



Series: Steter Bingo 2018 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - High School, Drugs, Guns, M/M, Secret Identity, completely unrealistic police procedure, dumb but fun, this title is literally the worst thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 19:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16393340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyofthekids/pseuds/twothumbsandnostakeincanon
Summary: Please be absent, please be absent-“Hey Peter.”Fuck.Stiles slid into the seat next to him, setting two cups of coffee down and sliding one over. Peter’s stomach sank. It looked like Stiles would be involved in this after all.





	21 Hops Avenue

**Author's Note:**

> I definitely didn't get BINGO but I did get --N-O which feels more appropriate for me anyway

_Please be absent, please be absent-_

“Hey Peter.”

_Fuck._

Stiles slid into the seat next to him, setting two cups of coffee down and sliding one over. Peter’s stomach sank. It looked like Stiles would be involved in this after all.

“You decided not to ditch today, then?” Peter asked, hoping that maybe one last suggestion would change his mind.

“Nah,” Stiles answered as he dug for a pen in his backpack. “You know what they say about the importance of education, or not pissing off the truancy officer or whatever. Drink up.”

“Thanks.” Peter brought up the cup and took a sip, surprised when it was a pumpkin spice latte. Stiles winked.

“You can tell everyone it’s manly black coffee, I won’t rat you out,” the boy said with a slanted smile.

 _Boy, boy, boy,_ Peter chanted to himself. _Minor. Not adult. High school student._

“There’s nothing less manly about delicious coffee,” he said, getting ahold of himself. Today was not a day to be distracted. “In fact, it’s the only way to suffer through first period chemistry.”

Peter’s mind was racing, trying to think of a way to get Stiles out of the classroom before the drug bust happened. He glanced at the clock. Ten minutes. If he could just get him out of the way and ensure he didn’t get arrested, there would be a chance for Peter to talk to him later, maybe shake him from the path he’d chosen in life. Set him right, and then maybe… in a few years...

“Haha, yeah,” Stiles agreed, lackadaisical. “First period chem is the worst. Better throw it back and fortify then.” Stiles took a swig of his own coffee, and Peter noticed an unusually tense set to his shoulders despite his casual tone. Brow furrowed, Peter took another drink, and wondered what was the matter.

The bell rang and they both remained quiet, but Peter’s heightened awareness couldn’t help catching how often Stiles’ eyes flicked over to him. Those sharp, beautiful eyes were turned toward Peter more often than not on a normal day, so the increase now-

“Alright, everyone, attention up here,” Mr. Harris said, standing up at the front of the class. “Today we’re starting the gasses module-”

Peter ignored him in favor of sending a text to his team confirming the presence of their target. 4 months of undercover work would coalesce in 8 minutes.

His stomach gurgled and twisted.

Peter frowned. It wasn’t like him to get nerves like this.

It gurgled even louder.

“Dude, are you alright?” Stiles whispered.

“I’m fine,” Peter said tersely. A quick ache shot through his gut, and Peter curled forward for a moment before it disappeared.

“Maybe you should go to the nurse,” suggested Stiles. “You don’t look too good.”

“It’s nothing.”

Stiles glanced at the door, tension apparent in his face.

“I think you should go,” he repeated, his voice heavy with implication, although for what Peter had no idea.

“I’m _fine,”_ he insisted. He had to be here when his team came into the classroom. Maybe he could get Stiles out in the early confusion, before he could be questioned-

The classroom door burst open, uniformed men and women spilling into the room, guns drawn on Harris. The officers yelled for him to get on the ground, a few students screamed, and Harris tried to make a run for it.

Peter immediately jumped up, tackling him before he could make it to the window.

“Jenkins, cuffs!” Peter yelled. “Jenkins!”

When no one responded, Peter looked up. He suddenly realized he didn’t recognize any of the officers. His head swung around, trying to find a single member of his team- but his brain came to a complete halt when he saw Stiles standing next to him, gun pointed at Harris.

“What the fuck!” Peter blurted.

Stiles’ jaw unclenched long enough for him to yell back, “No, _you_ what-the-fuck! Who the hell are you!”

Suddenly a second uniformed team came pouring into the classroom, and this time Peter recognized the faces. There was an extremely tense moment of guns being pointed in every direction, and then finally, _finally,_ Peter’s boss came running into the room. Followed immediately by another woman.

“Drug unit! Complete the arrest,” his boss called out, panting.

“Firearms unit, start bagging evidence,” the other woman added. “The firearms and drug units will be working cooperatively on this case from this point on.”

Both women looked frazzled and disgruntled. Someone finally handed Peter cuffs, and he got Harris bound and up off the floor, handing him to another officer before marching over to his boss.

“What the hell is going on, Karen?” he asked, only for Stiles to step up right next to him and add, “Jo? What the fuck is happening?”

Both women hesitated, but it was Jo who said, “It would appear there’s been a… lack of communication between departments.”

Stiles looked at Peter in disbelief.

“You work in the drug unit?!”

“You work in the firearms unit?!” Peter returned with equal disbelief.

They were still staring at each other when the two department heads started shuffling kids out of the classroom to be questioned. Peter grabbed Stiles by the arm and pulled him to the back of the emptying classroom.

“You’ve been undercover this whole time?!” he hissed. “I thought you were-” Peter cut himself off. Stiles’ eyes slowly widened.

“You thought I was part of Harris’ ring. Oh my God, that’s why you told me yesterday that I should ditch today! You were trying to keep me out of questioning!! You didn’t want me to get arrested!!”

“What else was I gonna think! You were constantly talking to him in private!” Peter defended, bringing up a hand to run through his hair.

“No, no, I’m not- I thought _you_ were a part of Harris’ ring!” Stiles exclaimed. “Every time I talked to him after class, you were waiting too.” He lowered his voice. “I’m not blaming you for trying to protect me, I-” His faced suddenly paled.

Peter’s stomach gave another sharp twist, and he realized he was going to need to find a bathroom soon.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry,” Stiles blurted. Peter looked up at him, wiping sweat from his brow. “I just wanted to get you out of questioning. I thought if I could keep you from getting arrested-”

“-Then you could fix the wayward teen, oh God,” Peter groaned. “The coffee. What did you put in it?”

Stiles nervously tapped a finger on his arm and hedged, “It should only last a couple hours.”

Peter groaned again.

* * *

True to Stiles’ word, it only lasted about 2 hours. Peter went back to work the next day to start on some of the paperwork. He was only a few pages in when another coffee was set down on his desk.

“Completely contaminant free this time, I promise.”

Peter looked up to see Stiles, no longer dressed in the graphic tees and torn jeans Peter had come to associate with him. Slacks and a slightly more organized hairstyle featured now, along with a badge identifying him as a member of the firearms unit that was housed on the opposite side of the precinct compound.

Peter consideringly picked up the cup and after a long moment, gingerly took a sip. Another pumpkin spice latte.

Stiles leaned up against the side of Peter’s desk, looking down at him.

“So, Detective Hale.”

“Detective Stilinski,” Peter replied.

Stiles looked at him consideringly.

“Can I assume we’re in agreement to never, ever tell anyone how we met, or what we were both trying to do yesterday, or about that time we accidentally lit the desk on fire with the bunsen burner?”

“Yes. Can _I_ assume we’re in agreement about getting lunch together today?”

“I was actually thinking about taking our morning break together in the blind corner of the evidence locker.”

Peter choked on his coffee, but managed to quickly clear his throat and say, “Total agreement, let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
